this is just where I put stuff. 

timestamp: August 15, 2026

In true Davis fashion, I run into everyone on my way out. First Sedona hears me causing a ruckus out by the car, where I angrily unpack and repack to optimize space. We say goodbye again. Then Gabe comes out as I sit idling while Nanami warms. He chats with me, shirtless as he usually is, and remarks how my card had been sweet and he felt that his had fallen short for being more comedic than heartfelt. I assure him I loved the card and the book of sexy boys he and Sedona gifted us. Then Rita, the property manager and our new downstairs neighbor for the last month or so, comes out to say goodbye and to wish us well. She asserts that she had done this drive before, too.

I make my final trip to the Co-Op. I run into Mike and he gives me a big hug while asking “oh, you’re off on your way right now?”. He sits with a motley crew, and breaks away from them to speak with me for a moment. He wears a blue Hawaiian shirt with white flowers and eyeglasses that have a yellow tint. He looks healthy, which I am happy for. He had given me a half hearted goodbye at Night Market a few days back, but now he is excitable. He tells me he embarked on a similar journey via motorcycle in the past. He hooked up with an old bible thumper who had a sidecar and they had driven through Colorado, Wyoming, Utah before parting ways near Yosemite. I nod enthusiastically, just happy to talk to him one last time before I head off. 

I walk through the Co-Op and take it all in and linger by the wines, thinking that if it were a different occasion I might select a nice bottle for an evening with friends. When I check out, I don’t mention anything about leaving town to the cashier even though they ask me how my day is going. There is a sense of peace and routine around the Co-Op and I think it’s best I just play the part. When I drive away, Mike waves his arm back-and-forth theatrically and enthusiastically. It makes me think of my dad’s family in Panama City Beach, FL, who insist on their own brand of theatrical goodbyes: coming out to the driveway to wave when any family leaves for home.

There is a weirdo suburb called Boomtown outside of Reno. It is full of stupid advertisements. Reno looks less beautiful than I remember it. I don’t see any of the trees that I wrote about. Now, the light is coming directly from overhead. I’m bracing for a call from Margo and I’m also not sure if she’s gonna keep it on the schedule, so I scroll maps with one finger and gauge how populous and connected the route ahead looks. I am in a wild mood just having descended out of evergreen Truckee. I’ve been into the railroads of Donner Pass lately. Down here, there are casinos and horrible ugly tall billboards, and interstate side walls with beige birds on them. 

Around 5, Nanami canters across salt flats. The landscape is gradient and it levels my gaze. My bikes and my camping tarp are getting ripped to shreds by the punchy wind. I fear it will all fly off but I don’t know how to get it more secure than it is. 

At a truck stop in Finley, Nevada, I have to pull over to take a work call with Margo. She’s asking me what went well with Lindsey and what sort of qualities I want in a new supervisor. I tried to deflect the call by saying I needed more time to review the job description, but Margo insisted that this was casual. Who cares? I give her my feedback while I watch truckers climb in and out of cabs at fuel pumps. I dig through our bags to fish out the furniture fund in a small glass jar and deduct $20 for a poor sap stranded at the truckstop, bald and roasting in the 95° heat. I know from Joey Santoni of Crime Pays But Botany Doesn't that asphalt is significantly hotter than the air around us. The poor guy panhandles low to the ground. I hope that someone would do the same for me if I were in a terrible situation; there’s a recognition that he and I are not so far away from one-another. Also, I’m paying my karmic toll before crossing massive desolation at 70 mph.

I vaguely remember the salted barrens of northern Nevada from the drive out here. Mountains and hills, where I can make them out, are segmented by mining but I don’t see any workers or signs of life in the landscape. There’s a crow that sits atop a green mile marker sign and makes a caw at the road. There are four signs to my right that say: Deep. State. You’re. In. Prison. I don’t understand what that means. Republican sentiment, no doubt, because the deep state lettering is blue and the in-prison part is red. Now, I’m passing exit 138: no services, and I think I need to learn more about Alexander Von Humboldt.

When I crest mile marker 205 of I-80 and it yields nothing different, I think of Lightning McQueen’s girlfriend, the Porsche, when she gives her monologue about the highway bypass of radiator springs. In it, she runs a gauntlet on highways the way that the roads used to move with the land instead of cutting through it while Pixar pans scenes of Americana. A tanker truck blows past a caution sign that says dense fog possible. On the bright side, vegetation appears much more abundant and green. I feel some calm because at least there is life on this side of mile 205 of I-80.

It’s about 7 PM and I’m nearing Wells, Nevada. I have almost bisected the state by this point and I am melancholy. Golden hour makes me think of the golden state and there are constant reminders of what I’ve lived and loved in California. The North Fork Yuba is noted in a few crossings; Eureka County is named by signs; messages are coming through in a group chat where my friends back in Davis are planning a visit to the farmers market. When I stopped for gas, there were no vapor shields on the pumps like in California. 

Now, I see a train headed in my same direction. It’s a long one with many stages of distributed power. I imagine trainspotter YouTube content back in our living room in Davis. The narrator remarks on a couple of EMD GP 40s screaming west up Donner Pass, but this one is headed east with me. Nanami overtakes the GP-40s with coaxing. They carry the weight of cars and goods and I’m here with a pathos plant in the seat next to me whose leaves cascade onto my bags, and behind me the rest of Thomas and I’s lives, and our bicycles above. I end up staying the night at the best Western Plus in Wendover, Utah, as planned. Things just fall into place. I think about the decisions, and then I make them; they roll off of my tongue. 

At 7 AM, I raise my aluminum cup from the depth of Nanami’s trunk. I am pleased. I fill it with hotel coffee, and then somehow it is like midday on the salt flats even though it is around 9:30. My line of sight is 100 miles and everything feels like a manifest destiny propaganda painting. There is a factory in the distance and a stagnant cloud sits just above it. The mountains are constant and unchanging again and the landscape rushes by. I’m cresting a hill now for the first time in a long time, but on the other side there’s only more expanse and Exit 56: Aragonite. I assume the exit road leads to that factory in the distance. Everything here, I assume, could be designated a superfund site. I am eager to find a gas station somewhere and a CVS, or somewhere that sells postcards. I need to write a card for my dad’s 70th birthday. I talked to him on my drive and the conversation felt real, and we reminisced about our road trips in the past and talked some about how we wish we were together. 

Still out on the flats, I have an impression that a plainswoman drifts and extends her arms in the valley next door, where there is a different timeline over the ridge. Maybe over there people are still in wagons with horses and they are grinding the raw salt with their hooves and wheels. We’ve all been brought up to believe a lot of hogwash about manifest destiny. It’s very present in my mind now. A friend of mine up in California’s Humboldt County once said he felt like a little boy out of the 60s whenever he entertained fantasies of becoming an astronaut in outer space. I thought that was succinct. A similar fantasy exists in my own mind about the West. Notably, it smacks of propaganda, colonialism, and genocide, but still, when you are told a story as a child and especially when it has elements of fantasy, it’s always going to stick in your mind. 

I end my lonesome streak by entering the Salt Lake City metro area on the west side where it feels quite industrial. I make my way to the east and things become more red than bone-white and kind of pretty. I pull off the highway and am trapped in a stupid cul-de-sac. I order some oatmeal to-go at a cafe. I speak only to white people by no fault of my own and I briefly wander an antique shop. I ask the woman if they have any stamps and she thinks I mean vintage stamps. She’s ready to message their entire team, 11 people, she says, via a group text message to see if they can locate some. I correct her that I meant actual usable stamps and not collectors items, since I want to send a postcard of the Bonneville Salt Flats to my dad for his 70th birthday. She tells me that she buys regular stamps at the drugstore down the street. Otherwise, there’s not much else to say about the city. To me it is black coffee, a well-staffed antique shop, and oatmeal with banana, blueberries, blackberries, brown sugar, and cream.

The east side of Salt Lake City is like a 30,000ft climb to cruising altitude. When you make it up there, the back of mountains are green and restful on the eyes after so long gazing at the blazing salt. Exit 148 is called Vernal. As I pass, I see the first of many Vernal pools on my route through Utah and Wyoming. I wish Thomas were here to observe as an interpreter. I’m sure Nanami and I have screamed past thousands of notable birds on our lonesome. If Thomas were here I would have been taken off guard by his irreverent examinations. I never understood how someone can train their eye to pick such small silhouettes from the vast expanse. 

Shortly after observing the green and red vegetation and well-watered landscape I pass Echo Reservoir. Now, I see the source of water that is the cost for all this Salt Lake City shenanigans, and I feel a sense of animosity towards the reservoir-goers in their speedboats. I wonder what this land was like before men did what they chose with it, when it was left to the native people and nature itself.

Salt Lake becomes Wyoming much more quickly than I expect. The grasses in Wyoming are less vibrant green than they were near Echo Reservoir; here they are green, beige, mottled to the effect of army fatigues. It feels worlds friendlier than Nevada’s landscape. 

At a Flying J off I-80, my first stop in Wyoming, the cast and crew are not clean cut Salt Lake Citians. I see campaign signs for a county Sheriff candidate named Rowdy, and another one nearby with a last name spelt K-O-P, “KOP”. The idea that names like KOP or Rowdy may be used as sigils of a political campaign gives me a disconcerting semblance of what people might find appealing around here. At that thought, I’m distracted again by the oddity of what Salt Lake City was. I hated that cul-de-sac that I ended up in, where I was unable to do anything but turn around and retreat back up the row of fresh-flipped single-family homes. Everything I’d learned from Jane Jacobs' Great American Cities and Jeff Speck’s Walkable Cities made me recoil at the bad design. These Wyomingans look like they’d squeal ATV donuts in a cul-de-sac.

As I make further headway in Wyoming, I start to think that maybe I should talk about the things that I love about my 1999 4Runner, affectionately named “Nanami”. In JJK, Nanami the Jujutsu sorcerer wields a blunt, cleaver-style sword wrapped in white cloth with a black splatter pattern. Though unsharpened and crude, it functions as a powerful Grade 1 cursed tool that channels his innate 7:3 Ratio Technique. Nanami is not as ostentatiously powerful as Satoru Gojo, of course, but his presence is dependable and strong. I like the beige leather interior and 90s wood ornamentals of my 4Runner, and the analog dash that glows a damp green like my mom’s cars I remember from my youth. Currently: 238,784 miles. The 3.4L V6 engine is breathy and although it does not boast ostentatious power, it can outpace EMD GP-40s under the right conditions. The speedometer on the left and the tachometer on the right frame a mommet of the drivetrain. The gearshift bound to the transfer case has 4HI, 4LO, and AWD. If I pressed it now, I would have to keep the steering wheel straight and drive 100 feet at slow-speed before a clink would sound, signaling that the system had engaged. The windows are big and they provide light like big bay windows. I love the headlights and how they follow the curve of the grille into the side panels. I love the body lines, indentations that trail from the headlights to the rear fuel door and anatomize Nanami as a 3rd Generation 4Runner. I pass the exit for Rasmussen Road in Wyoming. I keep turning cruise control on and off because it’s relaxing to have some assistance in this journey, but I worry for the car when I am not in control. Sometimes it revs farther than I would allow it to myself.

For the tail end of Wyoming I spend some time listening to the Out of Character podcast, then have an hour long call with my cousin Michael where we talk about his prospects for placement for a four month optometry residence. He asks me about Denver. He says he has one option in Conifer, Colorado. Then we talk about Cyclospora, the Panama City Beach house, and his potential visit to New York City at the end of August. I tell him that I’m not sure if he can stay with us yet because we don’t even have a place. I say that I would like to hang out regardless. While I’m on a short call with my mom, next, in which she assures me that my Aunt Connie and Uncle Walt will be spending my dad‘s birthday with him on Sunday, I cross the Colorado border. They have these Welcome to Colorful Colorado signs at every outpost, now. It doesn’t matter where you enter the state, you'll see one of those. I’m headed right to Shelby‘s parents’ Airbnb in Fort Collins, out of 17 hours of isolation and straight into an extremely social weekend. 

I’m curving through the exact stretch of road that I remember describing as gold, winding, and beautiful when I was on my way out from Boulder headed to Davis. Well, here I am to return Nanami to Colorado. Here. I am recognizing that all of this was a gift that I was only borrowing. It’s quite a trip to face this scenery now knowing that back then it was the start and now it is the end.

I climb into Nanami for the last time before meeting up with a hunter from Avon at the Wells Fargo. The outside temp is 55 and I’m parked outside of Gabby‘s house in Lafayette. It has always been one of my favorite things to start Nanami cold because I love the way the engine makes a particularly breathy roar. 239,291 miles are on the odometer and I’ve put about 20,000 of them on myself. As Nanami’s water temperatures climb, I feel a moment of sadness. Our last drive together feels more like a transaction. Nanami is once again bringing me somewhere. As we drive, I start to sing as I love to do while driving Nanami. 

timestamp: sometime in 2022

I feel the lord of fall today, depsite the summer solstice

he sleeps with amber eyes closed.

someday soon he’ll open them

weeping tears of emerald first, then gold

his breath is burnt leaves and his mouth is fire

his tongue is cackling and his hair is dry sticks

when he opens them all, bared wide to his audience

we will bask in his amber glow

timestamp: sometime in 2022

Dumbledore lives (fanfic)

There was a bang and shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where Dumbledore, Malfoy and Harry stood, and Harry’s heart thundered unheard in his invisible chest .. someone was dead ... Malfoy had stepped over the body ... but who was it?

‘There is little time, one way or another,' said Dumbledore. ‘So let us discuss your options, Draco.'

‘My options!' said Malfoy loudly. ‘I’m standing here with a wand – I’m about to kill you –'

‘My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first Disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means.'

‘I haven’t got any options!' said Malfoy, and he was suddenly as white as Dumbledore. ‘I’ve got to do it! He’ll kill me! He’ll kill my whole family!'

‘I appreciate the difficulty of your position,' said Dumbledore. ‘Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Voldemort realized that I suspected you.'

Malfoy winced at the sound of the name.

‘I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you,' continued Dumbledore. ‘But now at last we can speak plainly to each other .. no harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived ... I can help you, Draco.'

‘No, you can’t,' said Malfoy, his wand hand shaking very badly indeed. ‘Nobody can. He told me to do it or he’ll kill me. I’ve got no choice.'

‘Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban ... when the time comes we can protect him too ... come over to the right side, Draco ... you are not a killer ...'

Malfoy stared at Dumbledore.

‘But I got this far, didn’t I?' he said slowly. ‘They thought I’d die in the attempt, but I’m here ... and you’re in my power .. I’m the one with the wand ... you’re at my mercy ...'

‘No, Draco,' said Dumbledore quietly. ‘It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now.'

Malfoy did not speak. His mouth was open, his wand hand still trembling.

Suddenly footsteps were thundering up the stairs. There was a feverish glean in Malfoy’s eyes as he seemed to realize he was out of time. His thin lips parted. No thought Harry, expecting a flash of green light to erupt from Malfoy’s wand. Just as the sound of panting death eaters became uncomfortably close to the top of the stairs, a wand arced through the air for the second time that night. Caught by a blackened, useless hand, Dumbledore smiled gently and slid a little further down the banister. Harry was shocked. Draco had thrown his wand to Dumbledore, perhaps realizing it was his last hope. Less than a second later Malfoy was buffeted out of the way as four people in black robes burst through the door on to the ramparts. Still paralysed, his eyes staring unblinkingly, Harry gazed in terror upon four strangers: it seemed the Death Eaters had won the fight below.

A lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer tottered nervously on his feet, eyes bulging at the hawthorn wand resting at Dumbledore’s side.

‘Good evening, Amycus,' said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party. ‘And you’ve brought Alecto too ... charming ..'

The woman gave a nervous little titter.

‘Think your little jokes’ll help you on your death bed, then?' she jeered, though her voice shook.

‘Jokes? No, no, these are manners,' replied Dumbledore.

‘Draco!’ The man Dumbledore had called Amycus cawed, ‘You have failed, the dark lord will not be happy. It is up to us to finish the job’.

‘Is that you, Fenrir?' asked Dumbledore, squinting towards the death eater near the stairwell, seemingly unbothered by Amycus.

‘That’s right,' rasped the other death eater with long, yellow nails and greasy hair. ‘Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?'

‘No, I cannot say that I am ...'

Fenrir Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely.

‘But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore.'

‘Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual ... you have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?'

‘That’s right,' said Greyback. ‘Shocks you, that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?'

‘Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little,' said Dumbledore. ‘And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live ...'

‘I didn’t,' breathed Malfoy. He was not looking at Greyback; he did not seem to want to even glance at him. ‘I didn’t know he was going to come –'

‘I wouldn’t want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore,' rasped Greyback. ‘Not when there are throats to be ripped out .. delicious, delicious …'

*end of JK rowling's canon*

‘I will not be allowing any more death at Hogwarts tonight’ Dumbledore interrupted blandly,

‘and if you would all kindly lay down your wands we can assure you are not harmed before the Ministry arriv—‘

‘Lay down our arms!?’ Squealed the woman by Amycus’s side,

‘It’s four against one Dumbledore, and you can barely stand by the looks of it, give it up!’

Dumbledore sighed, sliding lower than ever on the railing and Harry struggled feebly against the body-bind curse, aching to help somehow.

‘You forget, Alecto-‘ Dumbledore began calmly

‘This is not the time for a lesson, you—‘

‘—you forget, that help will always come at Hogwarts, to those who ask’, finished Dumbledore, winking at Malfoy. Then many things happened at once. Dumbledore straightened up with agility belying his condition, a momentous bang sounded, shield charms blossomed around both Draco and Harry instantaneously. The four death eaters began firing a rapid barrage of killing curses at Dumbledore. Fenrir screamed with glee as shouts of Avada Kedavra pierced the air.

Jets of green flew wildly into the air behind Dumbledore as if blown off course by a strong wind.

Dumbledore was moving his wand in a complex series of jabs and twists. Fire- blue and unyielding raged into the night, sucking all the oxygen away and leaving Harry breathless. The flame set the entire clocktower alight and rose to pierce through the dark mark in the air, consuming it and breaking it into mist and smoke. The body bind curse on Harry slackened and gave way, though before Harry could even draw his wand one final bang and burst of flame rocked the tower and the four death eaters lie gasping, motionless in a cage of solid but still raging blue flame. Dumbledore was moving now, towards the stairwell and towards Draco, who jumped out of the way quickly and fearfully.

‘Remus, Severus, Minerva, are you all alright?’ Dumbledore’s voice was calm though it shook with exhaustion, and Harry noticed that the Headmaster seemed to be struggling to remain standing more than ever. There were several relieved shouts of ‘Dumbledore!’ from below and thundering footsteps as the order piled into the clocktower, unaware of the headmaster’s plight.

‘Oh thank god— but Dumbledore, look out!’ Shouted Tonks, aiming her wand at Draco who cowered and yelped.

‘Do not harm him, Nymphadora’ boomed Dumbledore, ‘He is with us now’.

The death eaters in the cage hissed, eyeing Draco suspiciously. One of them, Fenrir, rushed toward the flaming bars of his prison growling ‘Traitor!’ and bearing elongated canines. As soon as his yellowed fingernails made contact with the bars he was blasted backwards with a bang and a surprised yelp— he didn’t rise again from the ground. Amycus and Alecto shuffled nervously while the fourth- unnamed death eater sobbed and muttered under her breath.

Dumbledore waved his wand at the cage surreptitiously, and no more sound issued from it.

‘Where is Severus? I am in need of his services’

‘Please, Albus, let me—what’s wrong?’ started Remus, noticing how pale Dumbledore had become.

‘Thank you for your concern Remus, but it is Severus’s skills which I require currently’ continued Dumbledore, unruffled.

‘And what might I do for you on this fine evening, headmaster?’ Drawled a nasal voice from the shadows near the stairwell.

‘About time you showed—‘ up, began Tonks, glaring at the unperturbed Snape.

‘Enough.’ Dumbledore sighed quietly, shifting on his feet and causing all of the nearby member of the order to start towards him. He quickly held out his hand in a reassuring gesture and swept towards the stairwell.

‘Death eaters have infiltrated our home tonight-’ began Dumbledore,

‘—Draco, show professors Mcgonogal and Lupin to the dresser at once so that it may be sealed, then, you have my word that your family will be protected—‘ as he spoke Dumbledore waved his wand and several phoenix patroness erupted from it, dashing into the night presumably to update the rest of the order. ‘Severus, please accompany me to my office, and Nymphadora, if you would escort Harry back to the Gryffindor dormitory’

‘Harry—?’ Began Tonks, puzzled.

Harry yanked the clock from his shoulders then, he’d forgotten it still concealed him. Several people gasped, including Malfoy who looked about ready to faint.

‘Harry!’ Lupin rushed toward him, grasping his arm painfully tight

’are you alright m’boy?’

‘I’m fine, really—Professor Dumbledore! Proffesor—‘ but Dumbledore had already vanished down the stairs with Snape in tow. Agitated and worried for the headmaster, Harry glared at the flaming cage containing the death eaters- who cowered as far from the members of the Order as they could get. Moody, who seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, growled at the cage and smacked the bars with his cane- causing the Amycus and Alecto to shriek and the other death eater to sob more vicariously.

‘The Ministry will be here for you lot soon’ he said gruffly, and Harry thought he’d never seen Moody look so satisfied.

‘Harry, let’s go’ said Tonks, gripping his wrist gently.

The others were slowly flowing out of the clock tower, Malfoy- flanked by Mcgonogall and Lupin looked supremely uncomfortable and couldn’t stop fidgeting in his robes, as if feeling for his wand and then being reminded that it was in Dumbledore’s possession. Which reminded Harry-

‘Dumbledore’s wand!’ He gasped, and Tonks regarded him curiously

‘It flew off the tower when Malfoy disarmed him, we’ve got to get it and bring it back to him!’ Tonks smiled at him infuriatingly and said

‘if Dumbledore lost his wand Harry, I’m sure he’s already sent Snape to get it. We need to get you back to the dormitory where you’ll be safe for the night’

Harry sighed, grappling for excuses.

‘Harry. Dumbledore knows what he’s doing. We need to get you to Gryffindor.’

***

Severus Snape paced the headmasters office, sweeping his dark cloak mutinously and appearing characteristically bat-like “So…” he drawled, clearly struggling to remain composed,

“you cannot tell me where you were, you cannot tell me what caused you to hallucinate the death of your squib sister” he sneered slightly at squib, “and you refuse to tell me specifics about who forced you—”

‘I was not forced to drink the potion Severus, it was simply unavoidable. Harry is much too valuable for trivial tasks such as—‘

“—unavoidable” Snape interrupted monotonously, his dark eyes peering into the crystal blue ones as if attempting futile llegimency.

“simply. Unavoidable” replied Albus, rolling the dark hawthorne wand in his palm. It had been somewhat refreshing to preform magic without the assistance of the elder wand for the first time in half a century. The hawthorne wand had yielded to him nicely, after Draco Malfoy voluntarily handed it over. Though now, Albus mused, a new problem had surfaced. He- Albus Dumbledore- was no longer master of the elder wand.

‘drink this now, headmaster. It is a rather crude draught, originally given to pregnant witches when they consumed alcohol or preformed strenuous magic while carrying’

‘despite my percarious condition, Severus, I can assure you I am not with child’ Dumbledore said lightly, his beard twitching.

‘your sense of humor seems to remain intact despite any level of peril’ Severus said darkly,

‘perhaps you underestimate your condition. If you do not drink this soon you could possibly die, or worse the curse contained in your hand could be loosed by the effects of the poison, causing you immense pain and then death. The original intent of the potion aside, it will cleanse you of any remaining effect from your’ he paused lengthily ‘endeavour with potter tonight’.

Dumbledore nodded gravely, ‘oh yes, it appears death is certain for me, though perhaps not tonight’

‘to my good health’ he said for the second time that night, downing the potion swiftly and wincing at the taste.

‘Now Severus. we have a few things to resolve before either of us retire to our bedchambers for the night’

Snape looked positively appalled, ‘you have done quite enough—‘

‘Yes, Severus it has been a long night but if we do not resolve it well, all will have been for nothing. Now sit. Please’

For a moment it seemed as if Snape would ignore Dumbledore’s order outright. There were a few moments of prolonged silence in which Snape stared at Dumbledore’s blackened hand with a blank expression on his pallid face. Then he swiftly folded into an armchair and seemed reluctantly ready to listen.

‘Thank you. Now. My wand lies beneath the clock tower and it is imperative that I retrieve it at the soonest possible opportunity.’ Dumbledore paused,

‘furthermore, you are aware that since my duel with Grindelwald all those years ago, I have been master of the elder wand. That changed tonight, however, when Mr. Malfoy so regretfully disarmed me.’

Snape shot up in his seat. His knuckles were chalk white as he gripped his wand.

‘You mean to tell me that Draco is th—‘

‘Yes, Severus. Draco Malfoy is the rightful master of the elder wand’ stated Dumbledore blandly, as if he were reminding Snape of the date.

Snape seemed stunned into silence. He eyed the hawthorne wand gripped in Dumbledore’s undamaged hand with undisguised contempt and perhaps a shade of doubt. As if he knew exactly what Snape was thinking, Dumbledore smiled.

‘I am not completely defenseless without the wand, Severus’ he said, to which Snape remained silent.

‘But surely Dumbledore, you plan to win the wand’s alliegence back’ Snape asked, incredulously.

Dumbledore pondered this for a moment,

‘Ah, but in my old age I have forgotten the most important task. Here, Severus.’ He handed Snape the Hawthorne wand abruptly,

‘Draco must not be without a wand. Make sure he gets this before he takes the portkey I’ve arranged. Lucuis, and Narcissa should arrive at Hogwarts shortly.’

‘You’ve lost your wand, you’ve just barely cheated death, and yet you worry for the safety of your would-be killer?’

‘Ah, but it is Draco’s choices tonight, Severus, that truly matter. Similar to how you yourself have achieved redemption’ Dumbledore said flatly, leaving no room for argument.

‘Now please, take this to Draco immediately and retrieve my wand from the base of the tower with some haste, if you can manage it.’

Snape snatched the wand and stormed out of the office, sweeping his cloak ominously behind him.

‘Oh, and Severus’ called Dumbledore,

‘Your master will call for you tonight. If you are tardy on my behalf, he will not be forgiving. You must go to him immediately after you retrieve my—’ Dumbledore paused, tilting his head ‘—the elder wand’

Snape disappeared down the stairwell, his agitation reaching its peak.

As soon as he was alone Dumbledore collapsed back into his headmaster’s chair, sweating uncomfortably and shaking with exhaustion.

He knew for certain that death was not far in the future for him. He’d felt the bindings on the curse in his arm slacken, weakened by the poison.

Dumbledore had never been afraid of death, nor would he ever be. He did, however, fear what needed to be done before his death. Severus had told him he’d have one year- and that had been three months ago. Dumbledore felt certain now that he had less- perhaps three more good months at the most. Before he’d become useless, better dead and out of the way than alive and feebly resisting death.

He steadied himself. He had made it this far.

Dumbledore rose from his desk fluidly, with purpose. In a far corner of the office he opened an ornate box that was covered in dust.

Within it lie a wand- cherry wood with a selkie hair core. Dumbledore stared at it. His first wand- the wand he’d used to defeat Grindelwald.

When he finally grasped it, for the first time in over 40 years, it seemed to pulse at his touch. Recalling an old master who’d long since abandoned it.

The wand was a beauty- much more inviting and friendly looking than the harsh lines and power that emanated from the elder wand. This one glowed with a soft red light, and Albus was happy to have it in his hands once again. Power, it seemed, had finally become a lesser desire for him- for the first time in his life.

timestamp: April 15, 2015

Lolita

Pills hitting the floor.

Thats what the rain sounds like as it spatters against the car windsheild.

How could I not have noticed the similarity in sound before?

The clouds resemble little Hydrocodone pills, and the white lines on the road remind me of my desperate attempts to fuel my addiction when my painkillers were confiscated.

Wow.

All of this is just suddenly coming to my attention.

16 years of life, and I'm just now noticing how everything has some kind of abstract resemblance to a little white pill.

My dad stares straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel so tight it looks as if his knuckes have been doused in bleach.

I remain silent.

Praying that he doesn't try and start a conversation.

I can already predict how it will go, should it happen.

My father will say something like "You know buddy, I just expect so much more from you."

To which I will respond "I could say the same for you."

"Freeloading off of my mother isn't exactily role model behavior, and definitley not something to be expected of from a father figure".

Then he will shut up, or say something irrelevant and condescending like "Well, I know I'm not perfect but I hope you will learn from me and don't make the same mistakes".

We've had that exact conversation countless times.

Thankfully, my father just sighs dramatically and remains focused on the roadway, which is becoming even more distressed and cracked as we travel closer to my own personal hell.

We pass a big yellow sign, which has apparently suffered from some form of physical abuse, though the words "Sunny Valley Treatment Center" are still visible amongst the rubble.

"They should really get that fixed, it looks as if someone took a hatchet to the thing" my father remarks, as he breifly glances towards the distraught sign.

"I like what they did with it, I think it really adds charachter"

My father glances at me disaprovingly, as I continue to pick at the sole of my black converse.

"I really wish you would have let your mother and I buy you some new shoes. You know, I think you've had those things since you were twelve"

The fact that I'm 16 now, and my shoes that I've been wearing since I was a pre-teen still fit me, should really tell you something about my size.

I'm about 5'4, and scrawny. You'd expect someone of my height to be built solid, or even fat, but somehow my body still resembles uncooked pasta.

I find myself relishing the uncomfortable atmosphere in our small car.

Not because I genuinley enjoy it, but simply because I know, by comparison to what I will soon be going through, this is heaven.

A dark building looms out of the dreary febuary haze.

Taken aback by the sheer size of the facility, I glance towards my father for the first time In our 9 hour car ride.

"Is this it?"

I swear he jumps in his seat, probbably out of surprise that I would make any attempt to communicate with him.

"Yup, buddy. We're here. Impressive, huh?"

The gloomy building looks like something that had been cut out of medival Europe and thrown across time and space to land in a deserted pine forest.

I just glance back to the floor, and try to remain calm.

A pill or two would really do me some good right now.

My heart rate speeds up, and I being sweating in the suddenly warm and cramped car.

This is it. This is where my freedom ends, and my imprisonment begins.

As I quietly descend into hell, we continue through the wrought iron gates, and down the cobblestone driveway.

The huge oak front doors swing slowly open, and a demon emerges.

Chapter 1 

I tentativley step out of my father's jeep, only to find myself up to my ankles in a suprisingly deep puddle of muddy rain water.

Soggy socks.

This can't be good.

Already, my rehab is off to a bad start.

"Oh dear!" a shrill voice sounds

Quickly looking up from my tattered, now soaking wet pair of black converse, I meet the gaze of a woman who looks as if she has been a heroin addict for most of her life.

Her frail figure is outlined by flourescent light, shining through the open doors to the facility.

As she makes her way down the slick black marble stairs, I find it remarkable that her long, thin body somehow stays in one piece.

She is just as stick-like as me, only far taller.

'Hello, darling, you must be uhm, uheughem.."

she stumbles over her words and for a breif moment I fear she is suffering some kind of stroke.

"Im Elliott"

I interject quickly, hoping to stop her mental straining before she gives herself a migrane.

Great.

A stupid counseler.

Now my rehab experience is sure to be interesting.

The squelch of my fathers boots signals his approach, as he hefts my only bag over his shoulder and makes his way to my side.

"Hello m'am, how do you do?"

his southern charm seems to fluster the poor lady, who quietly continues her stuggle for words

after a moment of uncomfortable silence, softened only by the beginning of another bout of rainfall, the woman finally finds her voice

"Oh, Elliott Pierce, and Mr. Pierce, so nice to meet you"

she nods enthusiastically as she talks

"Please, Mr. Pierce, allow your son to carry his own bag. It is our policy here, that one must pull their own weight"

My father hands me my small duffel bag without objection.

"Now say your goodbyes, Elliott, your father has done his part for you, now it's time for you to help yourself"

He starts to talk.

I start to walk.

The woman offers him an apologetic shrug, before turning back towards the looming oak doors, and leading me inside.

Chapter 2

The scent of woodsmoke is overpowering.

It's easy to see why, as a massive hearth rages in the far corner of the room.

I follow the counseler closeley, my converse make loud squelching noises against the black marble floor.

Suddenly, the stick-like lady spins around and glances disdainfully at my flithy shoes.

"Remove them, child. They are muddying up the clean floors"

I ignore the fact that she has outed herself as a neologist, and square my shoulders.

"No, mam. I'd prefer to keep them."

She looks as if I'd just slapped her across the face.

"Remove. Your. Shoes. Now."

"Mam, please." I try my best to be polite

Call me a freak, but sometimes I feel a real connection to my shoes.

This pair of dirty, ripped, worn out, and now soaking wet back converse, have been through everything with me.

This sounds horribly desperate; but I feel as if they may be the only thing left in this world that knows who I really am, and everything I've been through.

Yes, they are battered, and broken, but so am I, and we're both still here.

Chapter 3

I'm cold, wet, utterly demoralized, and now feeling the beginnings of a migraine.

The stick-skinny counselor, who I now know as Mrs. Plump, has retreated to her office down the hall after escorting me to my room.

I glance around the unforgiving stone interior.

The only sound is from a slow drip of water near the pitifully small window.

There is a tiny cot with gray sheets to match the stone walls, an oak dresser, and a small wooden desk near the window which looks out into the courtyard below.

Overall; its about as comforting as a jail cell.

My head beings to pound.

I quickly sit down on the bed, which feels more like a block of plywood than an actual mattress.

This is only the beginning of my withdrawal symptoms.

I know; because I've tried to stop the use of my pills before.

The longest I've made it was 8 days. On the 7th day of my being clean from hydrocodone, I almost overdosed on cocaine

Then I came to the realization that I simply couldn't function without drugs, and better to be addicted to painkillers than something even worse.

Suddenly; the small window bursts open and the torrential downpour begins cascading onto the desk.

I spring up from the bed, only to slip on the stone floor which is already slick with rainwater

My head snaps against the edge of the wooden desk as I tumble onto the floor which has quickly become a fast moving river.

Groaning, cursing, and clutching my head, I struggle to secure the shutter and stop my room from flooding even further.

A thin stream of scarlet begins mixing into the pool of water.

I manage to jam the shutter closed with a shove, and collapse into the desk chair.

What a great start.

First I lost my shoes, now my room is flooded and my pre-existing headache is worsened by a blow the temple which seems to be gushing blood.

I remove my soaked flannel, and press it to my head, ignoring the sudden chill.

Mrs. Plump barges in without knocking and almost slips in the pool of blood and rainwater

"What in the name of Christ..." she trails off as she notices me clutching my head

The look on her face, and her precarious position as she grips the wall for support would have been comical if there wasn't blood running into my eyes.

"Elliot! What have you done to yourself?"

"The window blew open. I slipped in the water when I tried to close it."

As I speak, I taste the salt and iron of blood and feel it running into my mouth.

"Come along child, we must get you to the infirmary"

Chapter 4

I stumble behind stick-lady, who seems to be trying to set a record pace as we make our way to the infirmary.

The ridiculousness of the situation hasnt failed to become obvious to me.

Just a few years ago, I was the typical american boy. Playing baseball on a team, hanging out with freinds, going to parties.

I was normal.

That all ended in a matter of weeks.

And now; I'm following a deranged drug counseler down a medivel staircase in a completley innacuratley named facility, evidenced by the almost constant flash of lightning through the windows.

More blood trickles into my eyes, and I wipe it off with my sleeve.

The pitter-patter of rain echoes down the long stone hallways and adds to the dreary feel of the unfamiliar building.

Mrs. Plump doesn't cease her constant commentary on my wounded forehead, and how I should have been more careful during my first day at Sunny Valley.

Mercifully, we finally arrive at an ancient-looking oak door.

The poor lady struggles to open it using the iron handle, but her bony fingers cant seem to find purchase on the slick metal.

I watch for a moment, debating weather I'd have any better luck- as Mrs. plump and I probably have about equal physical ability.

Just as she turns; presumably to ask for my assistance, the massive door swings open with such force it knocks a yelping Mrs. Plump into the stone wall.

She manages to avoid knocking her head against one of the candelabras anchored to the wall, and promptly falls in a crumpled heap on the damp stone floor.

A girl; tall, skinny, and clutching a bottle of pills storms out of the nurses office.

She briefly pauses, noticing the sniveling Mrs. Plump, still lying prostrate on the floor, and then glances towards me.

My breathing stops.

She is beautiful.

Not the kind of beauty that comes with layers of makeup and fancy clothes- no, she is dressed similarly to me, in the gray uniform of Sunny Valley.

Yet; even the hapless, baggy clothes cant hide her full breasts and wide hips.

I meet her eyes, which; contrary to their light green color, are stormy and full of anger.

She gives me a coy smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Hey sweetie. You must be new around here" she speaks in a girlish voice, twirling her ash blonde hair around a finger.

Suddenly conscious of the blood covering my face, I just nod at her nervously.

She stalks towards me, sashaying her hips.

My heart beats like a helicopter as she stops, inches away from me, and I try desperately to avoid dripping blood on her shoes.

Using her long black fingernails, she pops open the small bottle of pills.

"For your discretion" she chimes, as she drops one into my hand.

I just stare at her blankly, stuffing the pill into the pocket of my baggy gray uniform.

She lifts her shirt; exposing her bare, flat stomach.

I stare, then quickly snap out of my reverie; my face warming, and glance away awkwardly.

Amused by my antics, she smiles as she tucks the pill bottle into the elastic waist of her uniform.

Glancing disdainfully over her shoulder towards Mrs. Plump, she sighs dramatically.

"Well, I'd better get back to my room, before that old hag sobers up"

As she smooths down her uniform, she begins walking towards the staircase with what seems to be her signature stalking gait.

Reaching the base of the staircase, she looks back

"You never told me your name"

I give her a slight smile

"I'm Elliot"

"Pleased to meet you Elliot. I'm Lolita"

With one last glance at Mrs. Plump, she flips her hair over her shoulder and disappears up the stairs.

timesstamp: sometime in 2013 

I sat, unmoving, in one of the cold uncomfortable desks that were kept, 

in precise, neat rows along the dull walls of the classroom.

it seemed like a prison, 

but atleast in prison they get to be outside. 

Instead of enjoying the warm spring day, with birds chirping and bees buzzing around,

from flower to flower, we were kept under lock and key, in this mousehole they called a school.

I sighed glancing for the umpteenth time at the sunshafts beckoning

 through the closed window, and felt the

familiar tug in the pit of my stomach, 

to be outside, to be free and happy and to watch the specacle of life

around me, the birds, the bugs , the plants, everything. "Seth Defter!" 

a shrill, but recognizible voice barked.

"yes, mrs. meebling?" i awnsered quickly. "Please pay attention, max, i dont want to 

have to have a talk with your

parents." she said kurtly. Because of my frequent daydreaming, i was often a 

subject to ridicule among the teachers, i swore

i caught them glancing in my direction from the teachers table during lunch. "ihmmmsrrygh" i mumbled.

 "what was that" she glared at me. "im sorry mrs.meebling" 

i replied glumly. she seemed to be satisfied by my ammendment

 and continued to drone on about some completley uninteresting 

subject that i guessed half the class didnt 

even know the name of. I watched as a boy whispered something

 to a girl next to him and she giggled, wich was quickly stifled by a murderous glare from mrs. meebling

 i sighed once again.

i had no freinds, ablsolutley none, there was something about me 

that people seemed to be repelled by, i

had tried, joining sports teams, clubs, sitting by people at lunch, but nobody seemed to even 

notice i was there,

 exept, sadly, for the teachers, who never stopped talking about the boy who doesnt ever pay

 attention and refuses to 

play with the other kids. I didnt mind having no freinds, i was used to being lonley, i had no 

brothers or sisters, 

and not even any proper parents. My "owners" as i liked to refer to them, for they didnt seem 

to qualify as parents

were social recluses who stayed in our tiny new york apartment and 

watched TV or smoked, or drunk or 

probbably just had sex all day, as i had walked in on 

them doing it and they had, without even pausing thrown a beer bottle at the 

door, wich i 

just managed to shut in time before it would have

 probbably knoked me out cold, i was very clearly nothing more than

 an accident to them, and i could not

understand why they hadnt given me to child sevices or even gotten

 an abortion. so without any of these

 things, i had learned, instead of talking to

think, to think of solutions to problems, of inventions that would 

help accomplish something, of ways to manipulate my surroundings, 

to change things

that were nuciances me to things that would help me. I would challengle

 my own mind, but however when i did just sit there, thinking, i was often

caught off gaurd by current events, like getting called on in school or waiting for a 

traffic light to change. A lound ringing inturrupted my thoughts, "alright, i think we have

 all learned a bit about 

osmosis and diffusion today" mrs. meebling said happily. "i expect you all to return to 

me tommorow with your

homework completed", i doughted anyone had learned anything today, therefore 

tommorow many would

return with all the wrong anwsers, if they even bothered to try. There was suddenly 

a mad rush in the classroom as 

everyone hurried to gather their things and be free of the cold building. I got up 

slowly and walked calmly 

to the door, unlike most 13 year olds, i thought my actions through before rushing to 

complete them. I knew 

even if i walked slowly i would make it out of the building at about the same time as 

everyone else, because of the congealing,

mass of slow moving kids in the hallway. I made my way through the crowd, trying 

to squeeze through gaps and duck under elbows, using my

my shortness to my advantage

to escape into the gleaming sunlight, hidden behind the huge black front doors that 

kept us imprisoned in the school.

I pushed through the doors and immediatley felt better as the light touched and 

warmed my skin, the other

kids squinted and moaned as thieir eyes adjusted, but i stared straigt into the firey 

mass that we called

the sun, feeling my eyes tingle with the light, and as i looked down back to earth,

 i felt as if i could face any 

obstacle, run any length or jump any hieght. I broke away from the crowd and walked,

 down the sidewalk 

towards my apartment. I didnt want to go home, and face the disgusting

 creatures

who inhabited my living room, so i walked, instead in the opposite direction, 

towards a small park i knew that i

liked to visit sometimes. I walked, with a spring in my step into the sunny park, nobody

 was here today exept 

me and a teengage boy and girl that looked about my age sitting in the sun at the 

opposite corner from me.all

you could hear were the bees buzzing and the birds chirping, with the exeption of

 the distant squeal of breaks,

shortly followed by yelling voices. I found a nice sunny spot, on a large rock by the 

small pond at the edge of the park,

and sat, basking in the sun, enjoying the feeling of warmth and watched my reflection

 in the pond, i 

had electric light blue eyes and short blonde hair, i was very skinny, due to my parents 

who would neglect to feed me occasionly

and i was also very short, wich i didnt mind, it even helped me in some situations 

when i didnt want to stand out amongst a crowd

. I suddenly glanced away from my reflection and instead 

stared into the sun once again and breathed deeply, i was relaxed

i felt as if i was a drained battery thagt had finally been plugged in to charge

and i sighed once again as i turned my sights back on the park, i noticed, the girl was staring at me 

with a mixture of shock and confusion on her face.

She had long brown hair and was tall and quite pretty, but i couldnt 

understand why she was staring soo openly

at me. I met her eyes and she seemed to be searching for somehting 

inside of me, and then suddenly i felt a tug to be

near her, to have my arm wrapped around her, protecting her, it was 

such a strong feeling that i was actually physically pulled 

about an inch forward. She seemed even more confused than ever and 

quickly glanced away from me, tapping the boy

next to her they both got up quickly and walked out towards the entrance

 of the park, the boy clearly did not

know what was going on and was complaining he wanted to stay longer, but 

she was actually grabbing his arm 

and dragging him along with her. I was dazed, by what had just happened, 

normally people simply glanced away

from me, as if i wasnt even there, but she had actually met my eyes, and held 

my gaze. I dont remeber anyone, showing even 

remotley any intrest in me in a very long time, if not ever, not even my own

 parents. I lay back againt the rock

and once again, thought.

   When i opened my eyes, i immediatley sprang to my feet. It was sunset! 

I had fallen asleep in the park!

my parents would be furious at me, normally i make dinner for them and even 

clean up the mess afterwards,

they would have no idea where i was, i would most likley be grounded for months, 

mabe even a year. I began to

run home, dreading the confrontation with them. I reached our building and sprinted

 up the stairs, taking two

at a time to reach our small balcony that hung off the  living room. I creaked open the

 door slowly, mabe they had dozed off and

forgotten about me, but, i had no such luck. They were sitting at our small dining room

 table, bickering angrily.

I inched my way inside, trying to delay the inevitible, when i was spotten by my 

mother. "WHERE THE HELL HAVE

YOU BEEN?"  she shouted, stumbling over her words. she was drunk, im sure 

theyh were both drunk, the way

they swayed slightly in their seats. "YOU USELESS LITTLE PEICE OF CRAP!" she went on.

 My dad staggered drunkenly out

of his chair and towards me, almost tipping over several times on his way. I expected 

him to hit me and so, i

stood there ummoving waiting for the stinging blow across my face that was about to 

be delivered. However instead i felt

a hand gran the collar of my shirt and yank me forward roughly. "Bill where are you bringing him?" 

my mom shouted at my dad

He didnt answer, but instead flung me into the closet and slammed the door behind me. 

I looked around, it was damp and almost pitch black.

it was a relativley large room with clothing scattered all over the floor along with shoes 

and socks. I sat in the corner, already missing the sunlight

and listened to the lound voices arguing outside. "He will stay in there until he BEGS to come out!" my 

dad shouted, enraged 

"He needs to be punished!" he continued yelling for some time after that, but i managed to tune

 them out and fall asleep once again.

I woke to Hushed voices outside the door "well its time we did something good for ourselves." 

i recognized my moms voice.

"but the brats not coming" my dad said gruffly. "leave him in the closet, well give him some 

food and water, its only

for a few days" she replied. "that'll teach him a lesson.". I knew what they were talking about, 

they had been saving up every penny for a 

carribean cruise. and just recently they had begun talking about going, not with max, of course 

but the two fo them.

i couldnt belive it, they were going to leave me locked in the closet for days! While theyu went 

on a cruise!

I banged on the door, but i knew there was no hope of me getting out, i felt like crying, but 

knew that wouldnt help anything.

I already was starving after not eating for almost 24 hours, and knew that whatever they 

gave me would not be substantial.

"SHUT UP IN THERE" my dad yelled. I flopped down on the floor, feeling defeated and hungry. 

I thought of the girl at

the park today, of that pull i had felt towards her and i wished i was in the park now, sitting in

 the sun, with the girl next to me, talking

and laughing, as she had done with the other boy. I heared my parents rummaging thorugh 

their room, packing for the cruise i guessed.

and i once again, dozed off, with my head propped up on the tower of old shoe boxes.

 I woke up slowly, trying to even lift my head up took almost all my strengh,

 i crawled over to the door and listented...

dead silence was all that greeted me. I noticed two large boxes, one was filled with

 crackers, chips and even some raw tomatoes,

wich i had no dought they had scavanged from out fridge, and the other was filled

 with cokes and waters and even one or two beers,

they obviously hadnt put too much effort into giving me my life support in this closet, 

but i didnt plan on staying in the closet for too long.

I made my way over to the door and pushed, it didnt budge, i kicked but it didnt even 

creak. It was a large door, reiforced with steel, for whatever reson,

but i had no idea why a closet door would have steel reinforcments. I Knew now that 

there was no hope of escaping the closet..the walla were concrete throughut our

who apartment, including the ones in this closet so i couldnt break through those for sure. I

 lost hope of escaping, i crumbled to the floor, wanting to cry.

but i knew i had to pull myself together. I crawled slowly over to the food box and quickly 

found something to eat.

i chose the tomatoes first, for something to give me some energy, and a coke to drink. I 

knew i needed to be

able to stay awake if i was going to try to formulate a plan to escape. I was pretty much 

just kidding myself that i would

even come up with any feisible plan. But i knew that atlest if i tried i would feel better.

 I sat up, i still felt as if i handt eaten anything

but i didnt care, i just wanted to be out of the closet, out of the darkness. i felt terribly 

sick, this was the longest time i had ever been 

inside without any sunlight, or any fresh air. I took a deep shuddering breath. And stood 

up, i walked back and forth in the closet, trying to warm myself up, but suddenly on 

about my 4th lap aroudn the closet, tiny pinpricks of light appreared behind my eyes, i began 

to shake, falling to my knees, i had no control over my body,

as my head hit the floor, my eyes unfocused, i felt as if i was freezing inside and i cried out in 

pain. Every movment i made felt like i was writhing around in a hot bed of coals.

I lay there, shivering, cold on the inside, yet burning up on the outside, when somwhere 

in the distance i heard a sound, a loud explosion followed by the sound of

glass shattering, then voices "Check all the rooms!" "he cant have much time left!". 

i heared footsteps

that semmed to echo through the whole apartment. Then a bursting light, as the closet door 

was ripped from its hinges, it sailed

all the way across the apartment into the concrete walls, 

making a dent in the tough stone. "Hes in here!" an angelic voice called.

I slowly used the last bit of my strenth to tilt my head, and my eyes widened, 

there siloetted against the 

glare from the sun behind her, was the girl from the park, and then the world

 turned upside down as i blacked out.

  My eyelids fluttered as i slowly woke up, i tried to recall where i was, but all i 

remembered was the excruciating pain

then the girl from the park, siloetted against the glaring sunlight. I sat up, and 

then almost lost consiousness once again,

there right in front of me, was a mirror, i stared, in the mirror was a boy, it was 

me more accuratley, but at the same

time, it was not me...because i did most definitletley not remeber having eyes of 

blue fire. I blinked, again and again,

trying to wake up from this nightmare. My eyes were gone, replaced by electric 

blue flames, the same color my eyes had 

been. I could still see everything just as i had before, however i looked like some 

sort of video game charachter!

"you dont like the eyes?" said a male voice sounding slightly amused. I jerked my 

head around, to find

the source of the voice and immediatley wished i hadnt as pain shot up my neck 

"unghh" i groaned. 

"i take that as i no" said a boy, about my age sitting on a bench about 3 feet away from the bed i

 was laying in, he seemed to be

amused by my apparent confusion, and was smiling slightly. His eyes also were in

flames but instead of blue they were a 

burning amber color, like coals in a fireplace. "where am i?" i moaned. He laughed 

"your in the new york  Ordinance" he 

stated as if i should already know. "the what?" i asked, confused. 

"The ordinace you know, like a institute, a facility"

"A facility for what?" i asked, even more confused than ever. "for us,

 for the Promethians". "the what?" i asked

"Josh!? is he awake?" a girls voice asked, sounding annoyed. 

"Josh! Dont confuse him! hes been through a lot!" 

Suddenly the girl from the park stamped into the room, barley glancing 

in his direction, she rushed to the bed

i was now sitting up in. "do you feel alright?" "do you need anything?"

 "did you just wake up?" "are you ok?" she

bombarded me with questions. "im fine, really im fine, but where am i?"

 "and whats wrong with my eyes?" i asked eager for awnsers.

"your eyes look fine, what do you mean?" she asked confused. 

"but there glowing! there on fire!" i almost yelled

"yes, of course they are, all Promethians eyes are like that" she said

 slowly as if trying not to startle me.

"whats a Promethean?" i asked. "oh...well," she seemed lost for words.

 "Promethians are a race of warriors, it is our duty to protect the

world from danger, like Alienites or Demonai." josh interjected. 

"Our duty?" i asked. "Yes, of course our duty,

we are the promethians, protectors of the human race." he said, as 

o matter o factly. "Look, youve been

through alot and i know this is alot to absorb but youve got to learn 

it sometime, so i might as well fill you in

now." the girl said gently. " and by the way, my name is Natasha,

 but you can call me Tash." "im Seth, Seth Defter" i said

then 3 things happened at once, Natasha and Josh both seemed soo 

startled that it would have been comical,

if the situation had been a bit more clear, then my eyesight suddenly

 seemed to flicker and i felt a strong tug

from within me, as i someone was pulling me forward, just as a boy

 walked in through the small door at the other

end of the room. He gasped as soon as he met my eyes, dropping a 

large pitcher of some sort of green liquid that spattered all over the white walls of the room.

and then he spoke, "its you!" he whispered, shocked "My brother."

"what?....i dont have a brother." i stammered, confused. I had a strange

 feeling about the kid

who had just walked into the room, there was something familiar about 

him, and his eyes,

they were blue flames like mine, but not a light blue, a darker blue almost 

black. "Tommy, dont confuse him."

said Natasha, still in a slight daze. Something was going on here, i couldnt 

tell what it was yet but something was 

happening. Just then someone else walked into the room, an older man 

mabe in his late 30s "Everyeone

out i will talk some sense to the boy" he said in a deep gravely voice. "but..but hes my"

 started the boy i now knew as

tommy "I dont care what he is, OUT!" the man demanded. There was no question who 

was in charge 

here as the kids hurried to leave the room, even josh who seemed as if he would listen

 to no one quickly

exited the room, stumbling on his way out. The man made his way over to the bench 

and sat down cautiously,

as if he expected it to collapse. He also had glowing eyes, a light green color, and he 

was quite tall and muscular.

He sighed as if it had taken him alot of effort to sit down. "well, i suppose youve been through alot" 

he mumbled

"but youve had about a weeks rest since we plucked ya outa that closet, so i guess your

 strong enough

to know the truth now" "What!?" i almost yelled, "a week? it cant have been a week!

 my parents, thell be

back home now! there gonna KILL me!" i was in a panic now. "calm down now, boy!

 And listen, youve got a lot

to learn about yourself." he went on, mumbling in such a low voice i had to strain to 

hear him. " Those

people you were living with, they arent your real parents" "Of course they are, you" 

i started "Dont inturrupt me, boy!"

"You stay quiet and LISTEN!" he almost yelled. "Your parents were killed in the Demonai 

invasion of the Moscow Ordinance, 10 years ago."

I had no idea what he was talking about, but when i tried to speak, it was as if my mouth 

was glued shut,

i couldnt force my lips apart to form words "mmmmmhmm" i mumbled, trying to tell him

 he was crazy.

"Thatll teach you to speak out of turn" he said pointedly " I know you must think im crazy, 

but this is the

truth, you are Max Sebanilo, Tommy Sebanilo's older brother." "10 years ago, the Demonai,

 a vicious species of beast, who inhabit the 3rd earth,

found a hole in our defenses in Moscow, Russia. Your parents were staying in the Ordinance 

there along with me

and 2 other Promethians Dereck Findhallow and Jinny Estrillo. We were on a Reconissance 

misson to make sure the 

Demonai cononly there was under control. However, unkown to us, they had been plotting 

the invasion for some time, and

with only 5 promethians in the area, it was a severe weak spot. They Broke through and 

overwhelemd us, Jinny was lucky and she escaped,

i belive she headed towards the Hungarian border, however You mother and father, although 

they were one of the best teams we had,

were overwhelmed by sheer numbers, Dereck, you father John and your mother Abigail were

 killed, your father and i fought, back to back,

and when he was finally struck down, he told me, with his dying breath, to hide you and Tommy 

back in new york,

at the ordinance here, one of the strongest ones we have, i took you and Tommy, from where 

you were being watched in Germanian Ordiance 

by one of your parent's closet freinds Stephani Windswarph, shes also one of our best fighters. 

Her and I brought

you and Tommy back to New York, but the power grenerated by you to was too strong when you

 were together, it was like a magnet for 

Demonai and Alienites. We had to seperate you, for your own protection. You were the strongest, 

and the oldest, so we had to give you up for adoption."

a pained look flashed across his face. "we had to give you to somone who nobody would think to 

look for,

someone nobody would expect we would entrust you to. So we gave you to Sarah and Bill Defter, 

we had to almost brainwash them, to make

them belive you were their kid, and stop them from putting you up for adoption. We kept a close

 watch on you, and planned one day 

soon after you went through the change to re unite you with your brother. We couldnt tell the kids 

where you were in our fear that they might have interfered, tommy especially, but we did tell them 

that when a Seth Defter returned to the Ordinance it was really you, Max Sebanilo , however

 You were very lucky that you were seen by Natasha in the park that day, she waited and followed

 you home, and when she saw you go in and not come out for over 24 hours, she came back to us 

in a panic, in a way she really saved your life.

if it hadnt been for her you would have died from lack of sunlight, see, you are a Promethian, a species 

created when Promethius, the god of fire and many consider him to be

the god of life, Combusted creating unimaginable amouts of heat and fire, Athena the god 

of battle tactics, warfare, and law then breathed life into the figures of clay, turning mud statues 

into living creatures. Later on We evolved and became shapeshifters, 

we could, with the force of will, bend

our physical forms into any shape, or creature we wanted to be. Even now we retain the gift 

of shapeshifting and use it, to protect the Humani,

a Sub-species of the Apes, Homo-Saphiens." he slouched, as if his long speech had worn him 

out. "oh, i almost forgot, the eyes are a bit of a side effect of those high temperature flames, 

see a small about of the flames still remain inside

 each one of us, burning forever, granting us immortality." he finished with a slight smile 

"oh, sorry, you can talk now" he said sheepishly

and snapped his fingers, i felt my lips come open and i took a deep breath. i didnt know 

what to say, i

didnt know if i should belive him or not, it was completley crazy that i would have any

 reason to belive him

"Why should i belive anything you just said?" i asked. In awnser to my question, he didnt

 speak but pulled out

a small picutre from his front pocket and handed it to me quickly. I examined it and gasped

 in shock,

in the picutre was a couple, very young mabe even in their late teens, the woman had blue 

eyes like mine 

and the man had pitch black eyes, there by their feet were two little kids, one was probbably 

no more than a year old and the other was about 2

mabe 3 years, but i recognized him, it was me. there was no dought in my mind that it was

 me, because of the eyes and because

i had a small birthmark on my arm that was just visible on the child in the picture. I was soo 

confused i wanted to cry, but instead i

haned the man back the picture and just stared down at the floorboards. "i know its alot to take in" 

he said. "but you should meet 

your brother." "oh and my name is Dillon, by the way" he said awkwardly  I just wanted to sleep,

 to wake up and this all be a dream, but at the same time, 

i didnt want

 this to be a dream, i was finally escaped from that wreched apartment, from those sickening

 animals that

were apparently not even my parents. So i made my decision "ok" i said weakly. 

 I followed dillon out of the room that i had apparently been sleeping in for a week and into 

a narrow hallway, we went around corner after corner , and i knew if i ever was alone in this place id be lost in a matter of seconds.

"dillon?" i asked cautiously. "yes?" "you said something about the change, what is that?" i asked.

he sighed and i hoped he wasnt going to give me some birds and bees talk or something. "when a 

promethian reaches his or her teens, they have a phase we call the change, when they gain the ablility to

shapeshift, also their flame, like i told you everybody has a flame from promethius, ignites, activating their

hieghtened senses and ablilites to move faster and more gracefully, your change was a particularily difficult one,

normally it only takes 2 to 3 days, but because of your sunlight deprivation, yours took twice as long." 

"why would sunlight deprivation change anything?" i asked confused. "look, im not good at explaining this stuff,

your lessons will start tommorow, you will learn everything you want to know, and even some things you

dont want to know." he said sounding a bit irritated. "ok, sorry" i said quickly. I didnt think dillon was the kind of 

peson you wanted on your bad side. We finally entered a large room with huge windows in the ceiling, allowing

large amounts of light to pour through. I saw Josh laying carelessley in a hammock, examining something in his hand,

when he looked up and gave me a slight smile, i gave him a weak smile, and looked around the room. There was a large oak tree in the 

center with many branches reaching out so far they almost scraped the white walls, everything in this place seemed to be white.

Then Natasha came bounding over with Tommy behind her, Tommy kept glancing over at me, but kept his distance as if he was afraid i might 

pounce on him. "Max, this is your little brother tommy, hes two years youunger than you" dillon said, 

looking as if he wanted to run, screaming from the room. "hi.." i managed weakley. "Hi, are you hungry?"

Tommy asked. "uhh..yeah" i awnsered awkwardly. "We can go to the dining room now, theres good things to eat there" he said enthusiastically.

"im coming with you" said josh, from all the way across the room, though i wast sure how he had heared from his spot on the hammock.

------